


i stay stoned on your love all the time

by hootyhoo



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Anal Sex, L-Bombs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Men Crying, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29985948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hootyhoo/pseuds/hootyhoo
Summary: He yanks on his hair harder, and Orange whines at that, Chuck pulling his head back to lay a small kiss on his cheek, almost chaste. It's a weird juxtaposition, and Orange can see the confusion written all over his own face, this is really weird. But Chuck speaks again, causing him to jump slightly, breath hot in his ear."You'd like that wouldn't you? I know how dirty you really are Orange, and I'm going to show it to you," he growls, still talking to Orange's reflection.Oh, it’s a sex thing.
Relationships: Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	i stay stoned on your love all the time

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway this mothballed into something bigger than I expected. Thank you to my best fren for being patient as I sent updates while she was sleeping. 
> 
> My draft title for this was "fourth gunn but make it about sex" so take that as you will.
> 
> Title is lyrics from the song "Tennessee Whiskey" which actually is Their song.

It was kind of weird that the motel room had a floor length mirror in front of the bed, but Chuck had booked the room and it's not like Orange was ever going to sort that out. He wonders why they'd even bother installing it in the first place, but whatever, no point thinking about it as he smooths his hair into its desired place, still wet from the shower he just took.

He can see Chuck laying on the bed, their shared king bed, which he definitely knows was not a mistake when Chuck ordered the room. It makes Orange feel funny, like why not just admit that whatever this is between them is something more, something solid, it seems so obvious yet so unclear all at the same time. They share an apartment together, and as of late a room and bed together, so sharing a bed outside of home makes sense. He makes the coffee in the morning, and Chuck blows him in the evening. Everyone acknowledges them like they're a couple, never inviting one without the other. It should be simple, but it's not like they’ve ever talked about it, how they feel, those three words to seal the deal. That would be too much work. Instead they just let it happen and over time it has morphed into this, a relationship that isn't a relationship.

He’s thinking too much about it, still petting his hair in the mirror, looking himself over. He can see Chuck has gotten up now, making his way over to where Orange is standing. His face looks strange, like he's on a mission. He moves so he's standing behind Orange, a reminder of how much taller he is, how he makes Orange feel small sometimes. He runs his fingers up Orange's spine, it feels nice, ghosting up his neck until ow- Chuck's pulling on his hair, tipping his head up, catching his gaze in the reflection. Chuck nips at his ear, gentle, not hard enough to hurt. 

“You fixing yourself up for me huh? I like it when you make yourself all pretty for me Orange, so I can really make a mess of you," Chuck murmurs, voice low and rough.

He yanks on his hair harder, and Orange whines at that, Chuck pulling his head back to lay a small kiss on his cheek, almost chaste. It's a weird juxtaposition, and Orange can see the confusion written all over his own face, this is really weird. But Chuck speaks again, causing him to jump slightly, breath hot in his ear.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? I know how dirty you really are Orange, and I'm going to show it to you," he growls, still talking to Orange's reflection.

 _Oh, it’s a sex thing._ He pushes his hips back, ass grinding against Chuck’s crotch. Yep, there it is, boner raging as ever, straining against his sweats. He must be hard up, that or he’s watched something in a porno or on TV or whatever and wants to try it out. It doesn't matter to Orange, it’s all the same to him as long as Chuck is touching him like this, reverent, like he’s something valuable, a diamond in the rough maybe.

And he supposes that's what they are, the diamonds in the rough, rocks that over time have been crushed down into jewels that aren’t jewels, not real precious ones anyway - he thinks that's how it works, the Discovery documentary was really boring, but he couldn't be bothered to change the channel at the time. Two disasters, reliant on each other to the point of chronic co-dependency, yet never solidifying what this is. Tiptoeing around any labels, words left unspoken, the weight of the years of inaction and uncertainties crushing them down. But god if they didn’t shine bright when it was good, like those moments when Chuck stops mid-fuck to stare at him, large rough fingers intertwined with his own pinning him to the mattress. Looking at him through dark eyelashes, lips twisted like he's going to finally say it, and Orange would say it back. Of course he would. 

And this kinda feels like one of those times, Chuck acting like this, pushing the boundaries of what this is, what they are. Like he's doing this because he wants to and not because he needs to, see how far the trust between them stretches, and that goes straight to Orange's dick, beginning to swell in his tight boxer briefs. He wants this, wants to know how far Chuck will go, how far he will go too.

He reaches for Chuck's other hand that's still gripping his hip, shit other left, reflections are hard, managing to pry it off and placing it on his now fully erect cock. Their fingers interlock as he squeezes Chuck's hand, pushing up into his palm as he meets his gaze in the mirror. He can see a moment of surprise in Chuck's face as he does it, eyebrows raised like he wasn't expecting him to go with this, before reverting back to his serious look, now with a smirk creeping at the corner of his mouth.

He cranes his neck back so he's facing Chuck, Chuck easing the grip on his hair allowing him to turn looking at him for real. Chuck's breath is hot on his face, noses brushing, ghosting his lips against his.

"Oh yeah, wreck me daddy." His voice comes out gravelly and more broken than he was expecting, come undone already just from the lead up. He doesn't even know what he said means, just that he's rock hard under Chuck's touch and he knows that he's good for it. 

With that Chuck licks into his mouth hard and rough, swallowing his moans as they frantically connect lips and tongue, both smashing into each other until they break or fuse together, turning the ugly parts of themselves into something beautiful, precious. He's leaking already with just Chuck squeezing him and kissing him like this, he really is a mess, a wet spot forming in his briefs.

Chuck breaks the kiss off, eyes heavy lidded, panting into Orange’s mouth. Running a thumb over the increasing patch on his boxers he tuts, reverting his gaze back to Orange in the mirror.

"You see how filthy you are? You've already made a mess of yourself and we haven't even started yet," Chuck says, giving another squeeze to his dick through the fabric, Orange now leaning hard against his chest behind him. "I bet you'd cum for me just like this, cum right in your underwear from me barely touching you, wouldn't you Orange?"

Actually, he thinks he wouldn't, but maybe the Orange staring in the mirror would, and that's who Chuck is looking at right now. But he needs more than just groping, canting his hips against Chuck's hand to create more friction, relieving some of the pressure from his aching hard dick. A soft moan escapes his lips, then he’s turning to look at Chuck's reflection, biting his lip to look as seductive as possible. At least doing this in front of a mirror has its advantages. 

Orange snakes his hand behind himself, trying to work out the angle he needs to get his hand under Chuck's waistband, ok so left is right and right is left- wait, that isn't right, or left? Ugh- anyway, he manages to work it out, tilting his body to get better leverage, a hiss of hot breath in his ear as he gets a grip on Chuck's dick, thick and hot in his hand. He strokes him a few times, watching as Chuck's eyes flutter closed, mouth slightly lax, groaning in his ear. 

It lasts just a few seconds, like he's coming back to his senses, eyes snapping open to look back at Orange. Chuck drops his hand from Orange's hair, instead seizing his wrist, grip so tight it’s actually painful, a reminder how much stronger than Orange he actually is. 

"Oh, you want this huh?" Chuck says, fucking up into his fist.

Orange huffs, when did this become a game of 20 questions? "Just fuck me already," he says, impatient, squeezing Chuck's hand on his dick again.

"Such a dirty mouth you've got Orange, if you weren't so desperate for me to fuck you, I'd wash your mouth out with my dick," Chuck says.

Wow, ok, well at least he's trying, Orange thinks. Cute. 

Chuck tips his head in the direction of the bed behind them. “On your front, now,” he growls, pushing Orange off him. 

Orange shimmies out of his boxers, he guesses he's doing all the leg work today after all, and positions himself on all fours facing the headboard, like usual. Chuck is rummaging around in his bag, way too long as Orange starts to feel exposed, ass up in the air waiting, head pushed into the pillow, face turned towards Chuck fumbling for the bottle of lube he always manages to conveniently have on hand.

He can't help but watch him fondly, the real Chuck cursing under his breath as he sifts through his belongings, clumsy yet intent at the same time. He finally finds it, turning to Orange slightly perplexed.

"What are you doing? I can't show you what a filthy slut you really are from over there," Chuck says, gripping his hips and pulling him down to the end of the bed, manhandling Orange into a position where he's angled so when he turns his head to the side he can see well, everything.

Chuck uncaps the lube bottle, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie before pouring some on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up a little. That’s the real Chuck there, not the one reflecting back at him who he guesses wouldn’t care if it were still cold or not. Orange gasps even though he can see what's coming, Chuck smearing the lube around his entrance before pushing two fingers in at once. Chuck glances back at him in the mirror, face stern and uncaring. “Jeez Orange, you’re so fucking greedy. you gonna take all of this, baby?” Chuck says, and yeah, it’s a bit cheesy and over the top but he can’t help but whine in response, fists balled into the sheets as he can only hold on and look.

It's crazy to see what he's feeling, Chuck's fingers pushing in, stretching him open, disappearing inside. He can see in the mirror how obscene it is, how he opens himself up for Chuck, filthy yet the hottest thing he’s ever seen. The Chuck in the mirror’s face is focused, brows knit as he twists his fingers inside, muttering a litany of praise under his breath, "Yeah, that's it," over and over, methodical. He catches the look of his own face, the Orange in the mirror, and he's so red, mouth slack and eyes heavy, hopelessly turned on from all of it. 

Orange knows he isn’t prepped fully yet, Chuck's fingers dragging within him. But the way Chuck is stroking that spot inside him incessantly, coupled with the visual in front of him, he needs more, more of everything, right now.

He grits his teeth, speaking to Chuck's reflection. "Fuck me, Chuck. Show me what you've got," he spits out, rocking his hips back, fucking himself on Chuck's fingers, bratty.

That really does it, Chuck's eyes meeting his in the mirror, dark and focused. "Oh, daddy's going to show you alright," he says, twisting his fingers out a bit too rough causing Orange to arch forwards, crying out sharply. 

Orange watches as he finally undresses himself, hoodie and shirt coming off together revealing his husky physique which drives Orange wild, and well if he's forced to watch he may as well enjoy the show. Chuck's broad tan shoulders sitting atop of strong built arms, large rough hands fussing at the drawstring of his sweats, pushing them down along with his boxers, kicking them off. And there it is, his erection hanging heavy between his legs and Orange can't help but lick his lips at the sight of Chuck taking himself in his hand, coating himself with lube, getting ready.

Chuck gets in position on his knees behind Orange, one hand on his hip, the other still gripping his cock. He slides it between his ass cheeks a few times, slapping his dick on his hole, rude actually. If he didn't have the visual right in front he can simply feel how thick and hard he is, feeling the weight of it. He jerks up when the tip catches the rim, maybe he shouldn't have been so impatient - too late now as Chuck lines up and pushes in, cursing as it finally gives, the head disappearing inside his body.

He can see Chuck pushing in inch by inch, feeling full already and he's not even halfway in. He bears down, taking it, white knuckling the bedsheets, feeling the burning drag as Chuck carves away, opening him up. And then finally he's in, filled to the brim.

He's so full, squeezing down experimentally on the dick inside him, watching in the mirror as the muscle tenses, stretched red and open on Chuck's length. "Yeah? You like that?" Chuck murmurs, pulling almost all the way out before violently pounding back into him, Orange being pushed forward, moans muffled as his face is pressed into the mattress.

Firm fingers card their way through his hair again, pulling his head back towards the mirror, painful yet erotic at the same time. He kind of hates that Chuck knows he loves it, loves his hair being pulled, getting manhandled around the ring and in the bedroom. "Watch," is all Chuck says, starting up a brutal rhythm, long strokes smashing into him over and over, the crack of Chuck's thighs slapping against his cheeks harmonising with his moans, "ah, ah, yeah, yeah, ah," a curse sprinkled in here and there. 

He's crushing into him, crushing them together, chipping and chipping away at him like he's trying to unearth something, cracking them both wide open. Breaking off the uncertainties, peeling the years away, discovering what's been there the whole time between them, the real them. 

And then Chuck's slowing down, thrusting slower and gentler, hand snaking to the back of Orange's neck, pulling him up to meet him halfway. He captures his lips in a kiss, and it's so soft it throws Orange off a little, his brain cells working overtime reconciling the Chuck in the mirror and the real Chuck. 

When they part Chuck has that look on his face, the one where it looks like he might… 

"Chuck..." Orange tries, looking into two pools of green, searching his face for it, those three words present yet distant at the same time.

But he doesn't, again. 

Orange slides himself off Chuck’s dick, wincing at the loss as he crawls to the top of the bed, lying down on his back. His knees were starting to hurt anyway, and this is much more comfortable. Chuck is looking at him, almost hurt in his expression. He goes to speak but Orange cuts him off- "I wanna see you," he says, hoping he understands what he's getting at. He reaches for Chuck's hand, so much larger than his, rubbing the calluses on his palms with his own delicate fingers, pulling until he's over him. 

"But I'm-" Chuck starts, and Orange interrupts again. He's not getting it.

"No, the real you" Orange smiles, kissing Chuck's knuckles before letting his hand go. 

Chuck props himself up above him, one hand trailing down his chest, fingers dipping into the grooves of his abs. He'll never get sick of it, the way Chuck touches him like this, like he really is something to behold. Like he is something precious, something Chuck wants. 

He continues downwards, fingers ghosting over Orange's dick and he can't help but buck his hips up, chasing any kind of touch. His dick is leaking profusely at this point, a stripe of precum spattering on his abs as it bobs against his stomach. Chuck runs his thumb over the tip, the feeling electric and Orange can't help but groan loudly, head flung back as he grips the sheets beneath even harder, threatening to rip holes into them at this point. Chuck can pick up the damage charge, it's fine. 

He traces around the head smearing his slick all over, bringing his hand up to Orange’s mouth, pushing his thumb past his teeth until he opens up for him, the taste of his own arousal on his tongue. 

“Do you taste as good as you look, Orange?” Chuck says, breath hitching when Orange sucks in, swirling his tongue around the pad of his thumb, never breaking eye contact. Chuck still doesn't get it, but Orange may as well benefit from it at least. His dick twitches at the thought, angry red and hard against his stomach.

Orange pulls off, voice low as he smirks, "Why don't you find out?"

Chuck raises an eyebrow, and Orange can't help but gasp as he huffs out a small laugh, dipping his head lower, stopping for a moment just before taking his cock in his mouth in one fluid motion. Orange yelps at that, Chuck's mouth wet and hot and perfect surrounding him and he can feel his dick twitching against his tongue, like it’s almost too much too quick. He gets his hand in Chuck's hair, dark and soft, trying to hold on to- he doesn't know what- resisting the urge to buck his hips, driving further into the sweet heat engulfing him.

And then it was over as quick as it started, Chuck coming off with an inelegant pop, licking him clean. Orange huffs at the loss, wound up tight, thrusting up into the air. 

"Would you just-" he grits out, desperate almost.

"So impatient, Orange" Chuck tuts, "You know daddy will take care of you."

Chuck positions himself been Orange's legs, hooks his arm under one of his knees, rolling him up. He fucks back in, bottoming out immediately. Orange groans as he arches up into it, pushing Chuck deeper inside, melting underneath his touch. Chuck gets a grip on Orange's hair again, rough fingers pulling to expose his neck, mouth latching on to the tender skin.

Chuck's teeth scrape away at his neck, like he's scraping Orange away until he gets to what's inside, what's been in there the whole time, bright and beautiful and reflecting back at him. The diamonds in the rough. It almost hurts, the way Chuck is marking him up, sucking at the skin, nipping at it between his teeth, smoothing it over with his tongue. But it feels perfect, and if it has to hurt then so be it, for everything between them. 

Orange reaches down and fists his dick, oversensitive and weeping. Chuck's ploughing into him exactly right, hitting that spot inside over and over. He needs the relief, starting to stroke himself as frenzied as Chuck's thrusts, only to be stopped again, Chuck grabbing his hand and pinning it to the bed, fingers interlocked.

Chuck stops again, chewing his bottom lip, looking at Orange like he’s the most precious thing in the world, a diamond in the rough. This wasn't Chuck in the mirror, this was his Chuck, the real Chuck. Vulnerable, shaking, beautiful. But Orange isn’t going to let him crumble this time, let the moment slip away like it has so many times before. 

"Just say it,” his voice crackly and small.

"Say what huh? That I'm gonna fill you up, baby? That what you want?” Chuck grins, pulling back out and in again, a short thrust to indicate his intent.

"Nah, that's not you," Orange breathes as he reaches up, cupping Chuck's jaw and pulling him towards him, slotting their mouths together. He kisses him soft and slow, way more tender than they’ve ever kissed before. Like he's trying to kiss the words out of him, chipping away at all those years of necessity and uncertainty. When they break he's reminded of that time passed, thumbing the grey at Chuck's temples. 

“If you don’t I will, I'm not being a rock anymore,” he says, fragile, teetering on the edge.

Chuck looks confused, right - he didn’t watch that documentary with him. He must get the gist though, shaking his head, looking down for a second. When he meets Orange’s eyes again, they look shiny, like two jewels glistening in the dark. “Orange…” he clears his throat. “You know I-, you know all this time that I’m, I’m…” he says, hoarsely. 

“Fine,” Orange sighs, giving in. He really is doing all the work today. “Chuck, I l-” but he’s cut off, muffling the rest into Chuck's mouth. Chuck cups his face, returning the kiss fervently like he's the one kissing the words right out of Orange's mouth this time, hard and slow, so when they break again he’s breathless, speechless. 

Chuck presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, brushing their noses together before resting his forehead on his. His voice is low and soft as he breathes out. 

“I love you, Orange. so fucking much.”

Finally. 

Chuck rubs his thumb over Orange’s cheek, oh weird- when did his face get wet? He’s not sad, he’s happy, like really happy, so it doesn’t make sense. And then he sees it too, a streak of silver glistening on Chuck's cheek. Oh.

Chuck's expression changes, almost like he's scared, and Orange can tell what's going through his head, overthinking like usual.

"Orange? Do you-"

He cuts him off, shaking his head, rubbing his own thumb on Chuck's cheek, smiling,

"Stupid" he laughs, and then, "I love you too, Chuck."

It's like a dam that's been breached after that, emotion and sensation overflowing with Chuck slowly rocking back into him, each thrust punctuated with I love yous, babbling against his neck about how he always has, how stupid they've been to not say it, how he's going to say it every day from now on. All Orange can do is grab Chuck and hold on, nails digging into his shoulders, tears falling freely between them. Silent streams cascading down their cheeks, like all the roughness is being washed away, revealing what's been there the whole time between them, bright and beautiful and precious.

Chuck props himself up again, leaning down to kiss Orange, deep and hard. He breaks off, reaching between them and finally gets his hand on his dick, and he's really not going to last long with Chuck pistoning him like this, the slide of his hand eased from how wet he is, fucking into him just right. His moans grow more desperate and frantic, the pressure building and building. 

"That's it Orange, I've got you," Chuck says, "C'mon darlin'."

And just like that the dam bursts completely, pleasure and love coursing through him as he comes with a sob, spilling all over Chuck's hand and his stomach. He tenses his thighs around Chuck, fingernails digging into his shoulders as he holds on, riding the wave, like a boat tethered to shore.

Chuck follows shortly after, rhythm faltering as his thrusts grow shallow and frantic, chipping away at his own orgasm. And then he's coming too, holding on a bit too tight while groaning into Orange's neck, dick throbbing as he shoots off inside, hot and wet and deep. 

They lay like that for a few moments, chests heaving as they catch their breath, sweat slick bodies pressed against each other. Orange doesn't want to move, doesn't want to think, just wants to stay like this, all wrapped up with the man he loves. Even if he is crushing him a bit, crushing him down into something beautiful, something precious, his. 

But things can't stay how they are forever, he should know that, and after a while Chuck comes back from wherever he drifted off to, gingerly pulling out of Orange as he grows soft. He can't see but he knows Chuck stuck to his word, he really did mess him up. There's cum on his abs and he can feel a cooling pool between his legs, sticky. Chuck rips off one of the pillowcases, does his best to clean him off, polish him up. 

"Hold on, I'll be right back," Chuck says, throwing the soiled pillowcase on the floor, heading to the bathroom.

Orange stands up, hobbling over to the mirror again to inspect the damage, he really is a mess. His hair is crazy, sticking up in places, stuck to his head in other spots. His eyes are puffy and dark, tired. He licks his lips, red and swollen, stinging from the stubble burn. The mark on his neck has darkened, a deep ruddy-purple, tender to the touch. A weird part of him likes it though, being marked up like this. 

Chuck emerges from the bathroom, a dampened washcloth in his hand, looking puzzled at Orange standing in front of the mirror, before taking his place behind him again. He hooks his arm in front of Orange's shoulders and pulls him close, Orange leaning into it, back flush against his chest. They look good together, he thinks. Like they are made for each other.

Chuck looks him up and down too, fingertips lightly ghosting over the mark he left, then presses a kiss to the side of his head almost like an apology.

"You'll always be a little red hunk to me, darlin'," he chuckles, muffled as he presses his lips into Orange’s hair.

Orange digs his elbow into Chuck's side, playfully. "Mm’ not little," he pouts.

Chuck laughs again, "Yeah ok, sure thing big cat, c'mon let's go to bed.”

They hit the lights and get into their king-sized bed, Chuck finishing cleaning them both discarding the towel on the floor before lying down, Orange assuming the position of little spoon as always. Chuck throws his arm around his waist pulling him in close, two bodies pressed together, shining bright. He presses a kiss on his shoulder and holds him there, solid. After a few minutes Orange can feel his breath on the back of his neck grow deeper and slower, he must be falling asleep. But all he wants to do though is stay awake, he’s not tired at all, a new one for him as usually he can fall asleep anywhere at the drop of a hat.

"Hey Chuck,” Orange murmurs softly, hoping he’s not fully conked out just yet.

Chuck shifts behind him. "Hmm?"

"Did you know the only thing that can mark a diamond is another diamond?"

"What are you, a geologist? Go to sleep," Chuck says, burying his face into Orange’s back. 

He really tries this time, tries to match Chuck's breathing behind him, relax the muscles in his body, feeling the ache of his thighs as he tries to sink further into the mattress. But it’s no use, he wants to look at Chuck, the real Chuck, his Chuck. He turns around to face him, taking in the sight of the man in front of him. His dark eyelashes flutter gently on his cheeks, pale pink lips parted slightly, dark hair flopped onto his forehead. He's so beautiful Orange thinks, reaching out to push his hair out of his face, fingers again lingering on his greying temples.

"You're my diamond," he says softly, causing Chuck to stir a little, brow furrowing with his eyes still closed.

"Hmph?" Chuck huffs out, still half asleep.

"Nothin- love you," he says, a small smile creeping across his face. Chuck cracks a smile too, cute dimples carved into his cheeks. He opens his eyes to look at him, heavy lidded yet warm. He brings his hand to Orange’s face, cupping his cheek before leaning in and kissing him sweetly, slow and tired and relaxed. 

When they break Chuck sighs. "Love you too, Orange," tucking Orange's head into his shoulder, pressing another small kiss to his hair, and after a while his breathing becomes deep and even again. 

Orange smiles into Chuck's neck, happy and loved, beaming from the inside. 

"Like not even the sharpest blade in the world-"

"Would you shut up and sleep?!"

"Mmkay," Orange says, finally closing his eyes, inviting rest into his aching body.

All it took was a mirror, reflecting back what was already there. Before he drifts off he wonders if there's a documentary on how mirrors are made, there's got to be. Maybe he and Chuck can watch it on their couch, in their apartment, together. He'd like - no, love that a lot.


End file.
